


Nothing else as sweet as this

by skullage



Category: Block B
Genre: Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9434735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullage/pseuds/skullage
Summary: Minhyuk can’t imagine what it’s like to suddenly wake up in a body that’s not your own, but he can guess it’s not made any better by Jiho circling Kyung with a studious expression on his face like Kyung is a particularly tricky melody that can be parsed out with enough effort.“Can you quit it,” Kyung snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. He kicked off his pants earlier when they kept falling to his ankles, but the sweater he chose hangs past his knees. It was big on him before but it’s huge now, making him look even tinier. The rest of them are just standing around Minhyuk’s living room, trading concerned looks, shuffling their feet. Minhyuk’s on his first glass of scotch, because that’s how he thinks best.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this fic contains transphobic language so if that triggers u it might be best to sit this one out

It might be the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to any of them, but when Minhyuk thinks about it, Kyung waking up in a female body is just the kind of thing that would happen to Kyung.

He wants to take back the last few minutes of his life and go back to before he opened the door to find a tiny woman with a pixie cut swimming in one of Kyung’s sweaters, hefting her jeans up past her bellybutton, all but shouting, “So, you’ll never believe this,” and barging into Minhyuk’s apartment, but he guesses Kyung wants to take back the last few hours and pretend like this never happened.

“I miss my dick,” Kyung says, throwing himself down dramatically onto Minhyuk’s sofa and sighing.

“Um,” Minhyuk says, at a loss for adequate words to console him in a situation he never would have thought possible, had he even thought about it. “Maybe it’ll grow back?”

“And what about _these_?” Kyung says, grabbing at where his boobs would be had he not been wearing a ridiculously thick sweater.

Minhyuk says, “I think I need a closer look,” and Kyung shoots him a glare that dares him to try it. “Have you told the others?”

Kyung makes a hand-wavey motion. “I sent some texts to Jaeyho and Taeil, but they didn’t respond and weren’t there when I woke up. Then I came here because I figured you would be the least likely to laugh in my face.”

“I’m resisting the urge.” Minhyuk sits next to him on the sofa, lifting Kyung’s legs onto his lap. He didn’t weigh much before but he’s even lighter now; Minhyuk could probably lift him up with one arm. “So,” he says, when the silence stretches and Kyung grows more and more morose. “How long did it take you to jerk off?”

“Well,” Kyung says, with a smile that doesnt quite reach his eyes, “it wasn’t the _first_ thing I did.”

 

//

 

Minhyuk can’t imagine what it’s like to suddenly wake up in a body that’s not your own, but he can guess it’s not made any better by Jiho circling Kyung with a studious expression on his face like Kyung is a particularly tricky melody that can be parsed out with enough effort.

“Can you quit it,” Kyung snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. He kicked off his pants earlier when they kept falling to his ankles, but the sweater he chose hangs past his knees. It was big on him before but it’s huge now, making him look even tinier. The rest of them are just standing around Minhyuk’s living room, trading concerned looks, shuffling their feet. Minhyuk’s on his first glass of scotch, because that’s how he thinks best.

“I brought some of Sunhye’s clothes,” Yukwon says, placing a bag at Kyung’s feet as an offering and then stepping back quickly, as though what Kyung has might be catching, and Minhyuk sees the flash of hurt underneath the annoyance on Kyung’s face.

“They won’t fit,” Kyung says. “I’m here, and she’s,” he lifts his hand a few inches above his head, “here.”

“No, she’s like,” Jaehyo takes Kyung’s hand and lifts it higher, “here. How tall are you, now, anyway? 155?”

“I just look short because you’re _freakishly tall_ ,” he says. Taeil erupts in laughter, probably because he’s not the shortest one in the group anymore, and also because he’s an asshole.

“No, you’re definitely short,” Taeil says.

“You’re at least ten centimetres shorter than Eunha,” Jihoon says. He comes to stand next to Kyung, dwarfing him, and Kyung scowls.

“At least he’s cute now,” Taeil says.

“We could go shopping,” Minhyuk offers, “for clothes that fit.” The thought that he’d like to see Kyung wear something that fits his new body crosses his mind, but he doesn’t dwell on it. Kyung seems to grasp the out Minhyuk is giving him and nods.

“I’m not shaving my legs, though,” he says.

 

//

 

The first few times Kyung comes out of the dressing room, it’s with gloomier expressions each time. Jihoon picked out the clothes, and they’re not awful, but Kyung looks like he’s about to jump into the Han River.

“Well?” he snaps.

The dress comes most of the way down to his knees, and it’s pretty, Minhyuk thinks, but the blue washes out Kyung’s skin tone, and he can see Kyung’s nipples through the thin material.

“I think we need to get you a bra,” he says, and Kyung looks down at his breasts.

“I think they’re okay,” he says. “They stay up.”

“They’re a bit,” Jihoon starts, face going pink, “distracting.”

Kyung’s eyebrows draw together immediately. “ _Your_ boner is not _my_ problem,” he says and spins on his heel back into the dressing room. Minhyuk and Jihoon exchange a look.

“I think he makes a great girl,” Minhyuk says.

“I am _not_ a girl,” Kyung calls through the curtain.

Jihoon furrows his brow, opens his mouth to speak for a few seconds before the words come out. “Are you still a guy, then?”

“Obviously,” Kyung says.

“So he/him pronouns?” Minhyuk asks.

“Are you looking to get hit,” Kyung says, mostly under his breath but loud enough for Minhyuk to make out. Twenty minutes and a bra fitting later he’s wrestling with one in the dressing room.

“How’s it going in there,” Minhyuk asks, listening to the increasingly exasperated sounds with concern.

“I can’t do it,” comes Kyung’s defeated voice.

“Do you need some help?”

He waits a minute in silence while Kyung decides. Jihoon is in the clothes section again, having excused himself once bras were added into the situation. “Yes,” Kyung says.

“Ok, I’m coming in.” He waits a beat to give Kyung enough warning and comes into the dressing room. Kyung’s got the bra held up to his chest but not actually on, looking like he wants to fight. Minhyuk was always taller, but he feels like he towers over Kyung now. He could rest his chin on the top of Kyung’s head, but resists the desire to. “You need to put your arms through the straps.”

“Thanks,” Kyung says, “I figured that out myself.” He does, and Minhyuk politely does not look until Kyung clears his throat. “I can’t get the clips to clip.” Minhyuk stands behind him, does the clips up easily, and Kyung watches him in the mirrors. “You’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, once when I was twenty-six I grew breasts for a whole week.”

Kyung turns and shoves at him, but it’s so weak Minhyuk barely feels it. Whatever muscle tone he had before is gone now, and he didn’t have that much to begin with. But he looks cute while he pouts, and Minhyuk has to shake himself out of it. His feelings are enough without adding in this extra element or helping Kyung figure out his new body, and it’s not fair to Kyung for Minhyuk to project them into the space between them, in a dressing room where Kyung is just in a bra and the underwear he was wearing when he got to Minhyuk’s.

“Do you like this one?” Minhyuk asks. He clears his throat because his voice sounds hoarse to his own ears, and regrets it when Kyung flushes.

“I don’t know.” He fidgets with it, pushing his breasts around, and Minhyuk looks away again. “I guess it’s alright. But this one has pineapples on it.”

Minhyuk helps him try on a couple more bras, feeling less weird the longer the time stretches on, cracking jokes to make Kyung feel better. By the time they leave the store, Kyung’s cheered up considerably, maybe even happy with the three bags of clothes and underwear he’s bought and at least a little more comfortable with his new body.

 

//

 

After ten minutes hashing out Jiho’s various plans, some of which included telling their management, and some of which included hiding Kyung in a bunker until his body returns to normal, Kyung, much to Minhyuk’s amusement, kicks them all out of Minhyuk’s apartment.

“He can’t tell us to get out,” Jaehyo says, “we’re just looking out for you.”

“Do it somewhere else,” Kyung says, and slams the door in Jaehyo’s face, making the glass ornaments in the hallway rattle. He comes back into the living room where Minhyuk’s put a movie on, and collapses back onto the sofa.

Kyung perks up. “Have you got any soju?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“Probably not.” Kyung deflates again. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he says, and disappears down the hallway again. Minhyuk keeps his eyes on the television and not on the way Kyung’s hips sway in that dress as he leaves.

He’s gone for about half an hour when Minhyuk starts to worry. When he gets to the bathroom he can hear his own voice coming through the wall, his lyrics reverberating off the tiles.

“Kyung?” He taps on the door.

“It’s open,” Kyung says, and when Minhyuk steps in he’s in the bath, his clothes discarded on the floor and his phone blaring out “Tightly”. Kyung’s cheeks are tinged pink from the heat of the water and he’s leaning against the edge. Minhyuk’s only handheld mirror is on the floor.

“Uh. You’re taking a bath?” Considering how weird the day started off, maybe it shouldn’t be weird that Kyung is naked in his apartment.

Kyung shrugs. “I was trying to get used to my new body. It’s harder than you think.”

Minhyuk forces the image of Kyung touching himself in Minhyuk’s bathtub while listening to his song into the back of his mind and sits on the toilet lid. “Is there. Anything I can do to help?”

“Can you give me multiple orgasms?” Kyung’s tone is light but there’s an edge to it that tells Minhyuk he’s only slightly joking.

Minhyuk pretends to consider the thing he’s been dreaming of for months now. “I can manage that.”

“Yeah?” Kyung laughs a little, maybe embarrassed that he was so forthright, but Minhyuk figures that even if he wasn’t soft on Kyung it probably would have happened sooner or later. The circumstances are different from how he pictured it, but he can work with that.

“Sure. As your friend and hyung, I’m ready to step up to the plate.”

A smile spreads across Kyung’s flushed cheeks. “You know Jiho is gonna be pissed that I asked you first.” When he stands up, water cascades off his body, splashing back into the tub and on the floor. Minhyuk holds out a towel for him, but Kyung doesn’t take it.

“You’re not tracking water through my apartment,” Minhyuk says.

“But Minhyuk,” Kyung says, sounding innocent, “I get wet to the thought of you.” In that tone of voice, coming from Kyung, it makes heat coil in Minhyuk’s belly. “I only think about you all day long,” he continues, laughter in his voice, and Minhyuk gets to his feet, gathers his arms around Kyung’s waist and lifts him up onto his shoulder. He weighs all of six kilos now. “I imagine you all day long -- what’re you -- I’m getting hotter and I can’t stop.” He starts laughing for real as Minhyuk carries him like a squirmy puppy into his bedroom and dumps him on the bed.

He steps back to admire his work, Kyung spread out on the bed, his body flushed and shining from the water, knees and breasts spread, his nipples light pink and hard, arms above his head, his eyes wide and dark. For once he’s at a loss for words, or maybe is just teasing Minhyuk with his silence.

“What do you want,” Minhyuk says, coming forward, placing his hands on Kyung’s knees.

“Take all that,” he motions towards Minhyuk, “shit off, get it off.”

Minhyuk does as Kyung asks and starts stripping, spurred on by the way Kyung’s eyes light up. His features were always soft but now they’re even softer, his lips fuller, his face rounder, but he’s still Kyung underneath it. His actions and appearance contrast, but Minhyuk still feels the same for him, still wants him with an intensity that clouds his thoughts and makes him stupid. Kyung makes grabby hands when Minhyuk takes off his shirt, wet from Kyung’s body, lies back and waits for Minhyuk to come to him, and Minhyuk takes his time stripping the last of his clothes off before moving in between Kyung’s knees and settling on top of him, his weight on his elbows like a gentleman.

“Hi,” Kyung says, looking as genuinely happy as Minhyuk’s seen him since this morning. His body feels good pressed against Minhyuk’s, the mounds of his breasts, the bones of his hips, his ribs. “Can you just fuck me? I really need you to.”

“Sure,” Minhyuk says, “but I have something in mind first.” He settles his weight back on his knees and gathers Kyung up with his hands under Kyung’s thighs and lifts him easily, dropping him back on the bed but further up, watching the way he bounces on the mattress.

“Fuck,” Kyung says, “okay, okay, I get it, you’re strong, you’re a Hungarian shot-putting behemoth. I mean, it’s hot, definitely, but warn me next time.”

“Sure thing,” Minhyuk says. He settles between Kyung’s thighs on his stomach, breathing in the scent of him, mouth watering at the sight of his dark patch of hair and what’s underneath. He parts the lips of Kyung’s pussy with his fingers like it’s a present, and Kyung squirms a little, mumbles, “That tickles,” and Minhyuk stops, pulls his hands away. “Is this okay? We can do something else.”

“No!” Kyung says, easing up on his elbows to look at Minhyuk. “This is hot, I’m ready. It’s just, a lot to get used to.” Minhyuk agrees. “I don’t know where I want you to touch me, I just want you to touch me.”

“I promise I’ll make it good for you.”

Kyung smiles at him, a sweet thing. “I know. Now get to work.”

 

//

 

His breathing when Minhyuk licks into him is harsh, forceful noise, and his hips seem to rise on instinct as Minhyuk latches onto his clit and sucks. “Fuck,” Kyung repeats, pushing his pussy into Minhyuk’s face, which just encourages him. It’s been awhile since he’s done this, has almost forgotten how much he loves the taste, how easy it’s always been for him to make his partner feel good, no matter their gender or body parts. He doesn’t have to reach up far to grab Kyung’s tit, licking into him as he does, pushing his tongue in as far as he can just to hear Kyung moan.

Kyung’s fingers in Minhyuk’s hair push him away, and for a second Minhyuk thinks he’s done something wrong. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Can we change position?”

“Do you want to sit on my face?”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

//

Kyung’s so wet, his juices dribble into Minhyuk’s mouth and down his chin, and Minhyuk laps at it, laps at Kyung’s opening, hands on Kyung’s hips to direct him until Kyung starts riding his face. He doesn’t have to do much more than suck, but he keeps his hands on Kyung’s hips to help him move.

He moves his hand to where his mouth is, thumbing at Kyung’s clit, and Kyung gasps.

“Minhyuk, hyung,” Kyung says, his voice going even higher and breathy, and the contrast of the word and his voice makes it sound good. Kyung starts breathing louder, rocking his hips more, and Minhyuk sucks harder, pushes his tongue into the folds of Kyung’s pussy to feel his muscles contract through his orgasm.

“I should be a girl more often,” Kyung says, panting it out, and Minhyuk hasn’t missed the amount of shit he talks, but at least Kyung is still so very much himself.

 

//

 

Kyung’s still oversensitive when Minhyuk lays him down, kisses down his chest, pulls Kyung’s nipple into his mouth just to hear him whine. He kisses and licks the expanse of his smooth skin, catalogues the taste and feel of him, licks into his belly button and kisses the mole on his stomach, the bones of Kyung’s hips.

Kyung cards his hands through Minhyuk hair and Minhyuk lifts his head to take Kyungs fingers into his mouth. Minhyuk looks at him, takes in the heavy-lidded eyes and slightly parted mouth, his chest clenching with an emotion he doesn’t want to think too hard about. He goes back to kissing Kyung, the insides of his thighs, his knees, stroking his hands down the hair on Kyung’s calves, and Kyung sighs, relaxes further into the bed, giggles when Minhyuk licks at his toes.

 

//

 

Minhyuk’s fingers slide in easily, feeling like they’re doing this out of order but enjoying himself anyway. He’s behind Kyung, frigging him to the sound of Kyung slowly losing it. He noses up Kyung’s back and neck and when Kyung turns his head and they kiss it doesn’t feel forced, it feels like how it’s supposed to be. He’s still got the taste of Kyung in his mouth and he hopes Kyung can taste himself too, and when Minhyuk kisses him through his next orgasm Kyung practically mewls into his mouth.

When he pulls back Kyung is looking wide eyed, as vulnerable as Minhyuk’s ever seen him, and Minhyuk panics, thinking he’s broken him.

“Hey, hey. How are you feeling?”

Kyung blinks twice before his mouth quirks and he sighs. “Good. You make me feel good.”

Minhyuk feels a bubble of pride swell in his chest and buries his face in Kyung’s hair, breathing in the scent of his sweat.

“I don’t know what it is. I feel more - feminine, I think. Maybe it’s the body. I suppose that’s how I should feel? Like a girl. I should call you oppa.”

“The body doesn’t make the woman. Or the man, in your case.” Minhyuk pulls Kyung closer, a hand on his belly, feeling the span of it, how small he is in Minhyuk’s hands. “Do you _want_ to call me oppa?”

“Oppa,” Kyung says, the only answer Minhyuk gets, moaning it more than anything else, and Minhyuk’s neglected erection, which is digging into Kyung’s back, perks up. “Get a condom and put your dick in me.”

 

//

 

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Minhyuk says to Kyung’s scrunched up face as he pushes into him, and Kyung whines, digs his fingers harder into Minhyuk’s back.

“Shut up and fuck me,” he bites out, sounding like he’s on the edge of a sob, and Minhyuk bottoms out in one smooth slide. Minhyuk starts to thrust and Kyung moans in his high-pitched voice, long enough that it makes Minhyuk feel good that he did that, the sound turning halfway into words that sound like _harder, like that, yeah_ and _don’tstopdon’tstop_. Minhyuk has no intention of stopping. Kyung feels so good, not just his pussy but the heat of his body, his nipples hard points against Minhyuk’s chest, the way his legs are wrapped around him.

If the way he arches his back and bares his neck is any indication Kyung seems content to keep going like this, but Minhyuk has other ideas. He scoops Kyung up in his arms and sits back on his heels, laughing at the way Kyung clings to him with all his limbs, as if Minhyuk would let him go. He slipped out for a second in the move but when he pushes back in Kyung’s expression turns blissful, biting his lip, smiling. Despite how Kyung is in Minhyuk’s lap they’re almost at face level, he’s that tiny, and Minhyuk starts to commit his details to memory the way he never let himself before. That’s not really Kyung’s face, Minhyuk knows, not really his mouth falling open on a gasp, his cheeks pink from the exertion, but it’s in a way still Kyung, still parts of him, and Minhyuk might not get another chance to know him this way.

He reaches between them to work Kyung’s clit until he’s shuddering through another orgasm, crying out Minhyuk’s name, going limp in his arms. The way his muscles clench around Minhyuk’s dick almost drive him to come himself, but he holds out, wants to prolong this as much as possible. For Kyung’s sake and his selfish own.

“Well, I think you’ve fulfilled your promise,” Kyung says. He pushes his sweaty hair back from his face until it sticks up, making him look even cuter.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“What? Fuck, of course not. Your dick feels so good and you should keep fucking me until it falls off.” Kyung rises up and sinks back down just as quickly, starting a rhythm that has Minhyuk panting into his throat, desperate for release. It doesn’t take him much longer to come and when he does he has to stop himself from collapsing onto the bed or on top of Kyung, settles for pressing his forehead against Kyung’s, kissing him when Kyung tilts his head for it.

 

//

 

Sometime after making sure Kyung pees and a shower to clean up they do collapse onto the bed and fall asleep entwined, and Minhyuk wakes up to a mouthful of Kyung’s hair, Kyung wrapped around him like an octopus devouring its prey. Minhyuk slowly extracts himself, careful not to wake him up, and makes his way to the bathroom. He splashes water over his face and neck, picks up Kyung’s flat phone and the pile of Kyung’s discarded clothes and takes them back to the bedroom. When he gets there he pauses, sorts through them for the pair of Kyung’s panties, which he tucks away in the top drawer of his dresser. Kyung doesn’t bother paying attention to the things he loses anymore, he’ll never know.

Minhyuk’s just about to get back into bed but the doorbell ringing stops him. He expends just enough energy to pull on his jeans before he opens it to find Jiho standing there, looking sheepish, with a cake in his hands.

“Uh,” Minhyuk says. It’s been a long day and he doesn’t have the energy to deal with Jiho and Kyung’s strange mating games.

“Is Kyung here? He’s not at the dorm.”

“Did you,” Minhyuk says, feeling his expression grow incredulous, “bake him a cake?”

“It’s an apology cake. I wanted to apologise. I tried googling ‘sudden sex change’ but it just brought up a lot of weird hentai porn and fanfiction.” He holds the cake to his chest like he’s afraid he might drop it.

“Uh,” Minhyuk says again, unsure what to do with this information. “He’s asleep, so. When he wakes up I’ll tell him you dropped by.” He closes the door on Jiho’s dejected face and goes back to the bedroom, where Kyung’s wiping sleep from his eyes and yawning.

“Who was that?” The sight of him is still something to behold, how tiny he is in contrast to Minhyuk’s double king bed. It could probably fit six of him on there.

“Jiho. He brought you a cake because he couldn’t find how to cure you on the internet.”

“Hmm.” Kyung stretches out all his limbs, which doesn’t take up much room, and Minhyuk gets into bed beside him.

“How are you feeling now?”

Kyung wraps himself around Minhyuk as soon as he lies down. “I think I’m starting to like this body, which should be surprising. Is that weird?”

Minhyuk shrugs. He strokes Kyung’s hair, feeling Kyung’s breath warm and sweet on his skin. “I don’t think that’s weird. It’s in some way your body still, even if it’s different.”

“Well, I like it.”

“Maybe you’ll be in this body for a bit longer.” Kyung leans into the touch of Minhyuk’s hands. “Do you still want to go by he/him?”

Kyung takes a minute to reply, tapping out his answer with his fingers on Minhyuk’s chest. “I think anything is fine? If we’re in public it’s probably best to use she. And maybe not call me Kyung.”

“When you decide what you want to be called, let me know.”

Kyung hums agreement, burrowing his face into Minhyuk’s chest. He stays like that for awhile, as Minhyuk tries to calm the hyper awareness he has of Kyung pressed against him, his heartbeat steady and loud in his ears, his arms held loosely around Kyung’s body, but not letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [twitter](http://twitter.com/prkkyng)


End file.
